


Monster

by StrawberrySpring (orphan_account)



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M, i did a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 17:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4675139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrawberrySpring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>L looks back at the choices he has made in the past and the one he will have to make in the near future. Set during the Yotsuba!arc. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

“Aaaah....Ryu...zaki...” Light let out a muffled cry as L's long fingers curled inside him. Light buried his face further in the pillow, embarrassed by the sounds that he just could not stop making. L continued moving his fingers inside him, and littering small, sloppy kisses around his neck and shoulders. 

“Does Light-kun like this?” he murmured teasingly, his voice low but playful. “What about-” L's fingers found Light's prostate and Light's body bucked into his hand violently, “-this?” 

Light did not bother hiding his face now, openly groaning and moaning and letting his pleasure known. The sounds sent shivers down L's spine. 

Light's body arched suddenly as he came, his mouth open in a silent scream, eyes closed. L pressed his lips behind Light's ear, humming Light's name as Light lay there, trying to catch his breath, still riding out his orgasm. 

Silently, L lifted himself up on his elbow, craning his neck a little so that he could see Light's face. His eyes were still closed, his mussed up hair sticking to his forehead and his face looked flushed. However, a small, almost imperceptible smile was etched on his face; one of those rare, genuine smiles, L noted, that Light hardly ever let anyone see. L frowned a little, trying to figure out the expression on Light's face-oh. Satisfaction. Yes, Light looked satisfied, content, blissfully so. After a few minutes of staring at him, L realised Light had fallen asleep. L felt a surge of pride rise inside him, only to catch sight of the abandoned handcuffs lying on the floor, rudely pulling him back to the reality. 

Light Yagami, the brilliant, beautiful, cheeky, smart, charming young boy, lying beside him on the bed, with his arms around him, was Kira. Or had been Kira, he was sure of it. And L had just made him come in the bed they were supposed to be sharing because he was his prime suspect. 

*********************************** 

Lawliet had adopted the title of L the detective, at a very young age, hoping the cases would prove to be a useful distraction from the perpetual boredom he seemed to be stuck in. Even when he was barely eight, he realized that there were barely a handful of people he could handle talking to. 

It would be stupid to assume that he had never met interesting people before. He had solved a variety of cases in numerous countries, had dealt with weird, attractive, eclectic, repulsive, intelligent people and even met them in person, albeit under disguise. He had even been on dates before. 

Lawliet had managed to push every single one of them away. Granted, a lot of people he found interesting turned out to be either murderers or international con men or thieves. A lot of others included people working under him, cops or friends or relatives of people he was supposed to be keeping an eye on. He adopted a different persona every time he met someone new, to the point that after the investigation ended, he felt the need to spend days in his own company to keep in touch with his true self, that only he, and Watari seem to know. He simply could not afford to make friends. How can he promise these people his friendship, especially the ones who were innocent, when all he had done was lie and pretend and act around them? When all he had done was take advantage of their trust and friendship and affection, only to achieve his own purpose? His job was to put people behind bars. His presence, his appearance, the letter 'L', was bad news. L did not regret this as much as he accepted it as a way of life. He was meant to do this, to bring people to justice even if he was only doing this to ease his own boredom, even if he was doing it only because he had become used to winning, used to solving puzzles, used to the fame and reluctant admiration and reverence that came with being 'L'. Loneliness was just a minor price he had to pay for this. 

But sometimes, the lines started to blur. Sometimes, he wished for something other than small victories and dramatic showdowns and lengthy interrogations that ended in confessions. As soon as a case ended, he needed another and then immediately after that, another. 

Lawliet also knew that this was nobody's fault but well, his own. He had researched Deneuve thoroughly before challenging them; they lived in a well-known city, under the guise of a freelance artist with their girlfriend and two dogs. Before meeting their girlfriend, however, Deneuve had dated a young man called Aiber for a while. L had needed to get close to them, get to know their secrets, how they worked, how they thought, what were their methods. Deneuve, despite their brilliance, had somehow failed, or refused, to see that the tall and lanky young man with wild, curly black hair, tattooed wrists and a crooked, charming smile could be the obnoxious, mechanical detective that seemed to come and challenge them out of nowhere, just to prove himself in some childish race to become the World's Best Detective. The night before L moved out and declared that he had beaten Deneuve, and unless they wanted their identity exposed, must forfeit their title to him, he had kissed Deneuve good night as they passed out on the couch after a long night of drinking (and some final questions). That was the first time L had actually considered staying; they could have a bright future, Deneuve was interesting enough and maybe he would even grow to love them-

Shaking his head, he had stood up and quietly started packing his stuff and removing all traces of himself from the apartment. Almost subconsciously, as though out of habit, his mind started listing out all the reasons why he could not stay, why there was no way he could make do with a companion, a person he might actually consider his equal ( _not really, he did beat them; and what kind of a detective actually lets people so close to them? The stupid ones, that's who and he definitely wasn't stupid_ ). No, he would never be able to trust them, never be able to actually live and care for another person when he had much bigger things to do, so many more people to defeat, so many more puzzles to solve. His paranoia would not let him. The part of him that loved winning, the part of him that was determined to be the best and the only, to establish his superiority, the part of him that hated to lose 

_the part of him that thinks, no, knows that he doesn't deserve them, that they could do so much better, that anyone could do better than him_

It was a small price to pay for being L. 

L was important, indispensable. L was needed to ensure justice in the world, L was their trump card, L brought people to justice, L put people behind bars, L was responsible for solving hundreds of cases, L was responsible for Coil's breakdown as he was forced to forfeit the title he had earned after thirty years in his pursuit of justice, L was necessary, L was the reason A committed suicide, L was justice... 

He had tried. A's suicide had left him shaken. He had never even met the kid and yet, it was him, his title, his work that had led that poor kid to commit suicide. He had convinced Wammy to go easy on B but before he could work up the courage to meet him (and calm his own paranoia), B had left. The world needed L so he could not do away with the successors, but he could help them. 

Every weekend, the kids at Wammy's were shuffled into a large hall where Roger would sit on a chair with a laptop open on the table beside him and the letter 'L' glowing on the screen. Intially, the kids would be too awed by the presence of the great detective L to ask questions. With time, however, they found that the greatest detective in the world liked to crack silly jokes about himself, had the most interesting stories to tell and never hesitated to answer their questions, however silly or irrelevant they might be. He had even planned to regularly schedule meetings with his two closest successors, but had only managed to meet them once. Mello had been ecstatic and it showed. Near, however barely smiled through the day and L had wondered if he had done something to offend the boy when late at night, when he was back in his room, he had found a small toy robot stashed in his pocket along with a candy cane. 

And then the killings had started and L was intrigued by them and he had come to Japan and his prime suspect turned out to be a prodigy like himself, only handsomer and a million times more likeable, who juggled the roles of an obedient son, caring brother, respectful co-worker, dreamy boyfriend all at once with ease. And L was jealous and hooked and repulsed but more than anything, interested. He had taken pleasure in teasing Light, tried his hardest to get him to confess, tortured him, staged a fake execution that would hundred percent result in scarring that one person psychologically and emotionally, and then chained himself to him and 

_I am a monster_

But the truth was, Light was Kira. For once, it wasn't just L playing a one-sided game with the lives of people around him. This time, his opponent was his equal, someone who had also manipulated people around him, lied his way through life and was willing to do it to him quite happily. Light Yagami was Kira and he wasn't just a mass-murderer with a god-complex, he was also a ruthless genius who seemingly had no qualms about becoming a monster and killing the only person who had ever been able to match him _if it meant winning the game and who did that sound like_

*********************************

Light opened his eyes, only to find that the detective had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder. He smiled a little, then shook his arm that had started to cramp. L woke up with a jerk, surprised to find that he had indeed, been sleeping. Light was looking at him, amused. 

“Well, how did you manage to fall asleep with that hard-on?” he smirked. 

L looked at him. Was he being sentimental or did Light's eyes seem warmer since the confinement? 

“L?” 

_Maybe I can still save him_

Light was frowning now, as the detective's face remained absolutely blank, apparently deep in thought. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you calculating my Kira percentage again? Was it the way I fell asleep after you fingered me?” he asked warily. 

L seemed to break out of his reverie. Instead of answering, he pressed his lips to Light's, soft and comforting and reassuring. Light seemed surprised, but did not protest. 

_....and myself_

**Author's Note:**

> I did it, I finally wrote something!   
> I had no internet connection for a day so I did a shit ton of things I generally don't, like writing fan fiction.  
> This is my first fan fic ever, so please review! It gets a little sappy, I know; I kind of indulged myself since L is my favorite character but I didn't want to portray him as a saint nor as the monster he likes to call himself. Criticism is welcome. Tell me if you liked anything in particular!  
> P.S.: I can't believe I wrote a smut scene O_O


End file.
